Nephilim
by neko-chibi-faithkitty
Summary: When Dean and Sam discover a key to a 'haunted' apartment, they discover there's more than a ghost locked inside. Mostly Supernatural and Harry Potter, but the idea for this story was based on the Fallen novels.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I started this quite a while ago, and I've been writting it off and on. I wasn't planning on posting this one yet, but one of my friends asked if they could read it, and since this is the easiest way for them, here it is. It's mostly Supernatural and Harry Potter, but I got the idea from the Fallen books. I hope everyone likes it!

By the by, I don't own Supernatural, Harry Potter, or Fallen

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><p><em>When human beings began to increase in number and daughters<em>

_were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans were_

_beautiful, and they married any of them they chose._

_Then the Lord said "My spirit will not contend with humans forever,_

_for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred and twenty seven years."_

_The Nephilim were on the earth in those days – and also afterwards –_

_when the sons of God went to the daughters of humans and had children by them._

_They were the heroes of old, men of great renown._

_~Genesis 6:1-4_

The shadowy figure stood watching the young man as he lay trapped in his enchanted sleep. "Free him." He whispered desperately. "Please."

"No." The little girl beside him refused. I'm keeping him to keep you in line Azreal." She said cruelly. "I've finally found the chink in your armor. If you want this boy to live a relatively painless life, you'll keep me happy. Disobey me, Azreal, and the last of your descendants will beg me for death."

The proud man bent his head in defeat. "Can he at least keep my gifts?" He asked quietly.

The child laughed. "Why not. He won't be able to use them here, but if it will make you feel better."

Gently, Azreal set his three gifts on the floor at the entrance of the apartment. Smirking in triumph, Lillith kicked the precious gifts across the threshold. She giggled happily as the muscles in his jaw tensed. "I'm going to enjoy holding your leash." She sneered. "Imagine, the great Angel of Death a chained dog."

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The young man woke shrieking a curse. For a moment he lay frozen, soaking in the fact that the power of his curse had left him only to be leached harmlessly into the walls of his cage.

"Kreacher!" He called. "Kreacher, come here!" Panic fluttered in his chest when the devoted servant failed to show.

"He's not coming." The young man's head whipped around to the source of the voice, blinking when he spied a small girl. Her short red hair was pulled up into two curly pigtails and she blinked large green eyes at him. "Your pet." She smiled. "He won't come."

"Why not?" The young man asked cautiously.

"Because I won't let him." The child said proudly.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

Her smile filled with a cruel joy. "I mean I built this cage just for you. As long as I have the key, I say who can come or go."

"Why?" The young man demanded. "Who are you? Why am I trapped here? What do you want?"

The little girl frowned, her tone becoming more serious than her age should allow. "You're my ace in the whole." She said. "As long as I have you under my thumb, the idiot that spawned you will jump the way I want him to." For a moment she let him absorb her words, then she spoke again. "He wanted you to have those." She said, her small hand pointing to the pile of objects thrown carelessly into a corner. "You needn't worry. As long as AZ jumps when I want, I promise not to hurt you."

"Who are you?" He asked again.

The little girl's laugh sent chills down his spine. "If you're brave enough to ask, I'm sure I'll have plenty of fun breaking you when I don't need you anymore. My name is Lillith, and you are mine…"

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Day 143, I think. If anyone gets this, please help me. I'm pretty sure I'm in America. I still can't leave the apartment. There's some kind of ward keeping me trapped. But these letters keep disappearing, so I still have hope. Lillith came today. She said Azreal had disobeyed her… Ginny is dead… She killed my Ginny…

Day 1,204, I think. I'm convinced this is Hell. Lillith brought another news clipping. She was wearing Teddy's body. I guess she was pissed at that Azreal bloke again. I still haven't figured out why she's using me as his whipping boy.

It's still July 30th . I keep hoping I'll wake up tomorrow and be eighteen, but I don't think that's ever likely to happen at this point…

If anyone gets this, I'm still here. I'm still alive…

Day 1463. Yesterday I threw myself off the balcony. Didn't work of course. I woke up this morning in my bed as if it had never happened, and according to the bloody calendar it didn't…

Day 1703. I'm pretty sure no one is getting these letters, but I'll keep writing just in case. She let Azreal see me today. He apologized for getting me stuck in this fix. I swear the bloke looked ready to cry. But he said he'd get me out. Lillith just laughed, but I don't think he was joking…

Ron, Hermione… I hope I'm coming home soon…

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well, that's it for now. I hope you enjoyed it.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** Okay, for those of you who asked I'll try and explain chapter one. I know it was a bit confusing, and somethings will be explained later on in the story. Azreal/Azrael are basically to spellings for the same name, and he is generally accepted to be the Angel of Death. No, he didn't really make an appearance in Fallen. That book focused more on Lucifer and the minor angelic chiors. The only archangel actually mention in it is Gabriel, bit it is a really good series by a man named Sniegoski.  
>As for Lilith wearing Teddy, it means she was possessing him. In the Supernatural series you will hear the refer to a host as a 'meatsuit' and this was refering to that.<br>About the apartment, it's kind of like Groundhog Day. No matter what happens the day before, it didn't happen. You just keep waking up on the same day of the same week, month, and year. I know they did a supernatural episode with the concept, but it was first done in the movie Groundhog day. So, basically, no matter what happens in the rest of the world Harry is trapped on July 30.

I guess, that's the best I can explain it for now. There will be another explanation later in the story, and as for how Harry is connected to Az, I wonder how many of you can guess. This story pretty much takes place after EVERYTHING. The Harry Potter books went exactly the same ignoring the epilogue's happy ending bit. The is set very late in Supernatural after the whole stop the apoccolypse gig. Well, I hope you enjoy! And thanks every one for the reviews!

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><p><span>Chapter One<span>

Crowley glared at the small key. Apartment 2364 in New York if the small scrap of paper was real. One never knew with Lilith. The conniving demoness often had plans layered within plans, and more false leads than a fae's labyrinth. The key and the apartment could both be dead ends. He frowned. But it could also be worth gold.

There was only one way to know for sure. He'd have to go to the apartment. His frown deepened to a scowl as he stuffed the key and address in his pocket.

He would tend to that later. At the moment he had a more pressing engagement, pressing and satisfying. The demon's frown faded when he considered taunting the two infamous hunters.

Dean glared at the demon trapped in the small circle. "Is there something we can do for you, or did you just decide to pop in and say hi?" He growled at the King of the Crossroad Demons.

Crowley smiled past lips blistered and burned by the Holy Water they had shoved down his throat. "You wound me." He said, his voice hoarse from abuse. "I need a reason to visit my two favorite vessels?"

"Cut the crap." The older Winchester snapped. "Why did you come?"

"Why do you think I have a reason?"

Sam frowned moving away from the wall. "Demons always have a reason." He insisted. "What's yours? Why are you still following us?"

The imprisoned demon laughed. "You're cute Sammy." He smirked. "But with Lucifer and Michael both locked in the pit the two of you are last week's left behinds."

"Then why are you after the head honcho's leftovers?" Dean frowned.

This time Crowley smiled wickedly. "I never said I came here for you." Suddenly the demon's head canted back at an impossible angle as a great cloud of black smoke came billowing out of the man's mouth. The two brothers leaped back as the cloud swirled inside the devil's trap. Sam's foot swiped just too close to the outer line and the trap was broken. The cloud exploded from the circle and was gone from the room in a matter of heartbeats.

"Damn it!" Dean yelled, slapping his palm against a nearby wall in frustration. The two of them stood staring at the corpse Crowley had just abandoned. After a moment Sam sighed. Kneeling down next to the body he began meticulously going through the dead man's pockets.

"Huh." He grunted after a few minutes.

"What did you find?" Dean asked as his little brother sat back on his heels.

"A key." Sam frowned holding the key up for dean to see.

The older Winchester came up behind him and took it. "A key?"

"And an address."

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><p>Crowley cursed. Around him, minor demons glanced nervously as the souls of the damned filled the air with their cries. He had left the key. For a few minutes more he cursed. Then finally he took a deep breath. Perhaps this wasn't entirely a bad thing. The demon's mind worked furiously as he considered the implications of what had happened.<p>

There was a chance that the two brothers wouldn't find the key. In that case he could just track down the corpse later and retrieve it. But if they did find it… He considered the possibilities. The Winchester brothers could be infernally hard to predict at the worst moments. That had been Lucifer's downfall; Michael's and Ruby's too. Crowley refused to repeat their mistake.

If he was lucky, Sam and Dean would take the key and check out the apartment. If it was a trap, let the brothers fall into it. But if Lilith had been hiding something there, and the Winchesters got their hands on it (whatever _it_ was) first, he could always steal it back.

Or they might decide the key was a trap and dispose of it. He wouldn't have Lilith's last secret, but then neither would anyone else.

Or they might be inclined to place it in a storage sight. Again, there was little benefit, but little to worry about either.

After a few moments Crowley smiled devilishly. While there were a dozen things that the two humans could do, as long as they had the key it was unlikely to come back and bite him. In fact, this could prove to be quite… Beneficial.

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><p>Dean sat on the bed watching as Sam tapped away on his laptop. "Well?" He asked when the tapping paused. "Didja find anything yet?"<p>

Sam's looked up to glare at his brother. "Dude, do you know how many apartments there are in New York?" He huffed.

"So?" Dean asked grinning aggravatingly.

"So yeah." Sam sighed. I checked up on lost apartment keys combined with the number and strange events."

"And?"

"And it's a haunted apartment."

"Why would Crowley have the key to a haunted apartment?" The older man frowned.

"That's a good question, but I've got a better one." Sam frowned.

"Huh?"

"What's in the apartment?"

"What do you mean?" The darker Winchester asked watching his brother.

"Well, nothings ever happened there. The building was only built seven years ago. Everyone connected to it is still alive; nothing violent or demonic has ever happened in the building or on the land. The only thing remotely odd is that about a year after the building was built the key to apartment 2364 was stolen, and the hauntings start."

"What kind of hauntings?" Dean asked.

His younger brother shrugged. "It sounds like your typical poltergeist stuff." He answered. "Objects move themselves; the TV turns itself on and off. One guy claimed he got an EVP of someone crying."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "If it is a ghost, then there's got to be something holding it there." He finally said, moving to look over his brother's shoulder.

Sam sighed. "It is possible. The last resident left everything behind when she moved out, so the manager auctioned most of it off. She's one of those older superstitious ladies who leave honey out on Halloween, so when she realized there was a ghost there she bought back all the furniture. As she thought, the ghost became more active. According to this, it's a bit of a tourist attraction. The ghost has no problem moving things, but no one has actually seen any apparition of any sort."

"So, it just moves stuff around in the apartment?" Dean asked skeptically. "How do we know this isn't just some bogus Ghost Facers thing?"

"Because Crowley had the key in his pocket." Sam pointed out.

"Good point." Dean nodded. His eyes scanned the report for a moment more. "So, wanna go check it out?"

"We should…" Sam said slowly. "It might be a trap. I mean, we did get the key from a demon."

Dean grinned maniacally. "C'mon, Sammy! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Fine. We'll check it out, but let's call Bobby first. See if he knows anything."

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><p><strong>AN:** Well, chapter one. I hope this pleases you JB.


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** Okay, here's the next chapter. I'm afraid updates might slow down a bit form here because of a bit of family drama, but I will still work on this story. Thank you everyone for all of the lovely reviews! They really brighten up my day. I've gotten to where I look forward to that little chirp on my phone that tells me I've got another one! Well, I hope you guys enjoy, and as always I haven't found the money to buy Supernatural, Harry Potter, or Fallen, so they still belong to their original owners.

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

The posh high-rise apartment building towered over them. Dean and Sam glanced at each other before moving to the front entrance of the pretentious building. Dean followed a step behind Sam as his brother moved to approach one of the evident security guards. "Excuse me." The taller brother said gaining the guards attention. "Are there any tours for the haunted apartment today?" He asked politely.

The man shook his head. "Sorry, son." He answered." The owners are letting some paranormal investigators have it for a week or two. If you want to check the apartment bulletin they'll have the exact dates posted." He pointed to a large bulletin board on the far side of the lobby.

"Thank you." Sam smiled. The guard nodded and moved away, leaving the two brothers to contemplate their next move.

"Paranormal investigators?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow to look at his younger brother skeptically.

Sam shrugged. "So, what do you want to do?" He asked softly.

"Well," the older brother frowned, "first I'm going to find a burger. Then I'm going to find a bar with beautiful women."

"I meant about the apartment." Sam sighed, rolling his eyes.

Dean shrugged. "Well, I figure we've got a key. We'll come back when the Ghostbusters are gone."

"Whatever." The younger Winchester huffed following his smiling brother out of the building.

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Two days later, the Winchesters were still sitting in the cheap hotel waiting for an opportunity to enter the haunted apartment. So far every attempt had been thwarted by none other than the Ghost Facers, this time with the owners on their side.

Dean sat on one of the two beds channel surfing while his younger brother typed furiously at the computer. The older Winchester smiled as the tapping became more staccato as his brother became more irritated. "I'm guessing you hit a dead end." He said as Sam's laptop snapped shut.

"Yeah." Sam growled. "I don't suppose you have any leads?"

"No." Dean shrugged. "But I did get a call from Bobby today." He admitted. "There's a job not too far from here. He said if we have time we might want to check into it."

"Might as well." The younger brother huffed. "It's not like this job is going anywhere fast."

Soon the two brothers had packed their belongings. "So what is this job?" Sam asked as they began to load the impala.

Dean shrugged. "Sounded like a simple salt and burn." He said. "We can figure out the details when we get there."

The younger brother glared at his older sibling. "You mean 'I'." He pouted, as Dean opened the driver side door.

"Huh?"

"You mean 'I' can figure out the details." He huffed.

"If you want to!" Dean beamed, crawling in the car and shutting the door.

"Jerk" Sam growled as he got in.

"Bitch." Dean smiled. Then the car was filled by Black Sabbath.

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Azreal watched as the familiar black car pulled up to the seedy dinner outside of Buffalo. The two young men driving in the vehicle got out, bickering easily with each other. The bickering stopped the moment the shorter of the two noticed him watching them. He nodded and gestured to the booth where he sat inviting them to join him. They glanced at each other. The taller one shrugged while the shorter one nodded. Cautiously they came into the dinner, carefully checking for anyone else with an unusual interest in them.

"Well, well, well." The older brother growled as he sat. "If it isn't my favorite Angel of Death." He smiled sarcastically. "What do you want?"

"Can I get you boys anything?" The angel asked calmly. "A burger and fries? A drink?"

"What do you want?" Dean repeated.

Azreal frowned. "You've been frequenting an apartment in New York. "He said softly. "Why?"

The two brothers exchanged a cautious look before Dean spoke again. "Do you know what's in that apartment?" He hedged.

"Do you?" The angel countered.

"No." Dean answered slowly. "But I am curious to know why the Angel of Death is asking questions about a demon's apartment."

Azreal was silent for several heartbeats. Finally he sighed in frustration. "A demon took something of mine. Something very important. She hid it in that apartment. Now, if the two of you have what I think you have, I want it."

"What do you think we have?" Sam asked evasively.

The angel's eyes narrowed in angry mistrust at the younger Winchester. "I think you have the key." He said coldly. "Without the key there is no way into the apartment."

"Dude, you need to learn how to use lock picks." Dean smirked.

"Do you think I haven't tried that?" The angel snarled. "I can break into the apartment anytime I want. But it does me no good to enter the apartment on October tenth of 2006 when I need to enter the apartment on June thirtieth of 2000."

"What exactly are you saying?" Dean asked cagily, his dark gaze carefully studying the angel.

"Lilith put a time seal on that apartment." He explained softly.

"That key is the only way for me to enter on the correct date to retrieve what she placed in there."

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>JB asked what music I was listening to while I was writting, and I figured you guys might want to know as well. I punched in Carmina Burana on Pandora and that gave me most of it, but, a friend also recently introduced me to Within Temptation, and I've been listening to Stand My Ground and Angel. So, if you want to know the overall 'sound' of this particular story that's it.


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I have a confession to make. Almost all of my Supernatural knowledge comes from my sister who is addicted, and I only watch it when I am curious about a specific part of the plot. That's not to say I don't enjoy it, I do. I just have a _very_ vivid imagination that doesn't cope well with monster movies. So, it's understandable that I make mistakes every now and again. I was watching one of the episodes last night when I noticed that a banner in the back dated the episode as happening in 2008. This is a problem because it takes place earlier in the series than me story, which takes place in 2006. Oops. So, bearing that in mind, I've already written and posted enough of this story that I refuse to go back and change the entire story line so, we're going to stretch our imaginations a bit further and pretend I didn't see that, and that these dates actually work. 'Kay! Thank you!

Also, someone asked me when Sam and Dean met Death. Honest answer, I don't know. I asked the fount of all my Supernatural Knowledge what she knew about Death in the series, ('cause I know he's there) and she said that late in the 5th season he starts toying with the brothers and takes a real liking to Dean. She also mentioned that the admiration is completely one way.

Thank you also for all of the wonderificous reviews. You guys are awesome and you really make my day! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! And thank you for all of the song suggestions. I've had a great time with them. Also, I appologize for my blunders.

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

Sam yelled as Bobby yelled over the phone. "Look," he sighed when the older hunter paused for a breath, "any hunter can take the salt and burn. Hell, if Dean asks nice Cas might even take care of it for us. This other job is gonna be ugly."

"Then why the hell aren't you asking for help ya idjit?" Bobby demanded angrily.

"Because Azreal is helping us." The younger Winchester winced.

"What?" Across from him, Dean winced in the driver's seat. "Ya damn idjit! Did you even stop to ask why the Angel of Death agreed to help you? What does he get outta this?"

"Yeah, Bobby. We aren't that dumb."

"Yes you are." The older man growled. "You won't even tell me what this job is."

"We think it's a smash and grab."

"You think? Coulda fooled me!" Booby growled irritably. "You two are gonna get yourselves killed with your thinking!"

Beside him, Dean gestured for Sam to give him the phone. Sam rolled his eyes and gave his brother the phone. "Bobby, its Dean." He said curtly. "Instead of yelling at Sam, maybe you could do something useful?"

"What?"

"What could a demon steal from an angel to use as blackmail?" The older Winchester asked coldly. "Because whatever we're looking for Lilith stole it to hold against Az."

Bobby was quiet for a few seconds. "I'll look into it." He finally rumbled. "And Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever do anything this stupid again?" Then the phone went dead.

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Bobby stared at the ancient manuscript. It was impossible, but it was the only thing that could possibly interest the Angel of Death to the point of desperation. Say plague or famine and you had his attention; war was equally appealing; the word massacre had his giddy as a school girl. But to offer him a soul that had eluded him for God knew how many years, no wonder the angel was willing to help.

Three items created by Death that could either kill you or make you immortal, items that could even do the impossible and reclaim a soul the angel had already taken.

The older hunter frowned at the thought. "Damn idjits are gonna get themselves killed bringin' back John." He growled suddenly. "No wonder the Angel of Death wants their help. He gets three souls for the price of one."

Carefully he began to reread the ancient legend looking for any other traps hidden in it. When he couldn't find any he pulled out his phone and began dialing. "Pick up, ya idjits." He grunted.

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Azreal was waiting for them when they got off of the elevator. "I don't suppose you know exactly which apartment we're looking for?" Dean frowned.

"2364 is the fourth door on the left." Azreal said softly, cautious hope in his eyes.

"I take it you've been here before?" Sam said watching the angel. He merely nodded stiffly and began to move off down the hall.

The door he stopped in front of was a nondescript wooden door that they might have found anywhere else in the city. The only odd thing was the way Azreal was carefully avoiding contact with the knob.

"This it?" Dean asked casually. The angel nodded. "Right." He said. "This is what we do. Me and Sam are going inside. I'll look for angel boy's stuff. Sam, you watch my back. Azreal, you stay out here and keep a look out."

"That won't work." Azreal growled.

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Because inside that apartment it's July thirtieth of 2000. If I'm out here screaming in 2006 you won't have heard in in 2000."

"Then just stand here and look pretty." Dean snapped. "You're not coming in."

"My so-" Azreal stopped abruptly, took a deep breath, then said more calmly, "something very important is in that apartment. If something goes wrong I don't want anyone to be hurt."

The two brothers stared at the angel with darkly mistrusting eyes. "Something?" Sam asked softly. "Or someone?"

Azreal glared at them both. "I must go with you. He knows me."

"And who is 'he'?" Dean asked. The angel just stared back stoically at the two hunters. "He's your son, isn't he?" The older brother demanded. "That's why you're so desperate to get him out. He's your kid."

"No." Azreal denied. "His father was human, so was his mother. He doesn't know what I am."

"Then what does he mean to you?" Sam asked. "Why is he so important? Who is he?"

The Angel of Death snarled at the end of his patience. "Harry is important! That's all you need to know! He's important, and he's been trapped in that apartment for six years, and he's in danger!"

"Fine." Dean snapped. "We'll get him out, but then we want answers."

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The apartment was dark as though whoever lived there hadn't bothered to turn on the lights or even get up. The two hunters glanced at each other before moving further into the room. Behind them the angel watched through the open door, a compromise that neither party was happy with. "Dean." Sam said softly. "Look at your watch."

The elder Winchester glanced down and frowned at the frozen hands of the time piece. "Guess Az was right about time not working right in here." He nodded.

Cautiously they moved further into the apartment, passing through the kitchen and into the darkened bedroom. The morning sun peeked through the open blinds offering a little light. "Harry?" Dean called. "Harry Potter, are you in here?"

"Yes." The dull reply was soft and hoarse. "Who are you?"

"My name is Dean, and this is my baby brother, Sam." He answered, peering into the gloom in search of the speaker.

"Did Lilith send you?" Harry's disembodied voice asked calmly.

"Lilith is dead." Sam said firmly. "We… I killed her two years ago."

"Oh." The apathetic voice replied. "What day is it?"

"Friday." Dean answered.

"No, not the day of the week. What day? What month? What year? How long have I been here?"

"October." Sam answered slowly. "October thirteenth, 2oo6."

For several moments the apartment was as still as the grave. Then the voice spoke again. "Two thousand, two hundred and sixty six days. I should be twenty three." He said longingly. Then his voice turned cold. "How did you get here if you killed Lilith?"

Dean shrugged. "We stole the key from a demon called Crowley. Then when an acquaintance realized we had it he asked us to get you out."

"An acquaintance?"

"An angel." Sam answered. "Named Azreal."

"He's an angel?" Harry's voice seemed mildly amused.

"Yeah." Dean sighed. "He's the Angel of Death."

Harry's laughter seemed to fill the empty room with bitterness. "Now I know you're lying." He hissed. "Why would the Angel of Death be willing to free me?"

The two brothers glanced warily at each other before Sam spoke. "You don't know?" He asked cautiously.

"Know what?" The suspicious voice asked.

"Um, we think he might kind of be your dad."

For a moment the dark room was silent. "My father was James Potter, and even the people who admired him the most would never dream of accusing him of an angelic nature. Besides, my father's dead."

"Then you tell us." Dean growled. "Why does the Angel of Death care so much about you?"

"Maybe because I have something that belongs to him." The shrug in his voice was unmistakable. "He can't have my cloak, but I never wanted the others."

"The other what?" Sam frowned.

When the boy didn't answer Dean coughed softly. "Maybe we could turn on some lights?" He suggested cheerfully. "It's a bit weird talking to someone I can't see."

Harry sighed. "Help yourself. The switch is by the door." He said. "Fat lot of good it will do you though."

"What do you mean?" The younger brother asked as his sibling stumbled toward the light switch.

The lights flickered on to reveal an empty room. "I have no intention of letting anyone hurt me again." The voice said from quite close by. "If you can't see me, you can't find me to hurt me."

"How can we get you to trust us?" Dean frowned.

"Let me go." Harry's voice was barely audible. "Let me out of this damn apartment. Let me bury my dead. Let me wake up tomorrow and be eighteen!"


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Note:** Okey Dokey! Well, first thing's first. I'm sorry it took so long to get this out, but well, 'life happens' and all that jazz. Next, there seems to be a great deal of confusion about dear old Az. For as long as I can remember I've always thought that the four horsemen _were_ the four archangels. Raphael-pestilence, Michael-war, Gabriel-famine, and Azreal-death. Now, I have dug through my Bible and as many holy books as I could find when all this confusion started, and here's what I learned. There's nothing saying they are, but there's also nothing saying they aren't. No one knows who the horsemen are- it's all speculation. Truth be told the horsemen get about a three sentence paragraph each in Revelations and aren't mentioned anywhere else. It also doesn't say where they come from, just that they come at the sound of a trumpet. SO I looked at what is says in Supernatural. According to what I could find in Supernatural (not owning season 5) they consider the horsemen to be separate entities from the angels. They also added quite a bit of 'scripture' about the horsemen that I couldn't find in my bible which tells me two things. First, that the writers of Supernatural are a hell of a lot braver than I am (you don't want to know what is supposed to happen to people who add or take from scripture) and two, I think Azreal just became an OC. So, I guess I'm going to have to do a flashback at some point to show the brothers meeting Az and maybe a few other things. I didn't want to do flashback because they can disrupt the flow of a story, but I suppose I'll do it for you guys because you are all so very awesome! And thanks by the way for all of your sweet reviews and tips on where to find Supernatural stuffs! ;D

Wow, that was a lot of explaining. Thanks again for being so patient! Cookies for all! Now, here's the real reason you came...

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><p>Chapter Four<p>

"How long have you been seventeen?" Dean asked curiously.

"My birthday is July thirty-first." Harry answered. "Ginny and I, we were planning our last year of school, then we were going to get married. Doesn't matter though. She's dead now…" His dull voice trailed off.

"Look, we don't know anything about that." Sam sighed. "But we know how angels and demons get when they start screwing with people."

"Do you?" Harry spat. "Do you know what it's like for a demon to walk up to you in your four-year-old godson's dead body and hand you a news clipping saying that the child is wanted for the murder of his own grandparents?"

"No." Dean said coldly. "Our particular brand of nasty likes to track down the women in our lives and burn them to death in front of us. Starting with our mother."

Harry fell silent, and for a moment the brothers thought he had left. Then, he spoke again. "Do you want to see them?" Harry's voice asked softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your mother, and the others… Would you like to see them?"

Sam frowned at the disembodied voice. "But, they're dead."

"I can bring them back for a time." Came the offer. "It helps a bit. They can't stay here, but you can at least have a chance to say good bye."

"Are you saying you can bring the dead back to life?" Dean demanded.

"No." The voice answered. "Nothing can do that, but I can bring back their souls for a time. Let me out of here and I'll show you."

The two brothers exchanged a dark look. "Is that why Azreal wants you so badly? Because you bring the dead back to life?"

"I told you, just their souls." Harry sighed. "I can call their souls back into the land of the living. They're still dead."

"Do it then." Dean growled. "Bring someone back."

"Do you promise to take me out of here?" The older brother nodded.

Suddenly a scarred hand appeared, grabbing the older Winchester's arm in a vice grip, forcing him to grab it's wrist in instinct. Slowly, a golden thread of light wrapped around the interlocked arms. "I swear I will show you how I can retrieve the dead. I swear I will retrieve one person for a time. Do you swear?"

"Swear what?"

"To get me the bloody hell out of here." Harry demanded. "And to return the stone when you've spoken to your dead."

"What stone?" Sam butted in.

"Swear it!"

"I swear." Dean said slowly. The thread of light pulsed four times before sinking into the skin of their arms.

"That was in Unbreakable Vow." Harry said, releasing Dean's arm. "If you break it, you die."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled.

"Calm down." The voice said. There was the sound of heavy fabric shifting and suddenly a lean young man was standing warily next to them. His startling green eyes regarded them cautiously as he draped some sort of silvery blanket over his arm. "This didn't used to work in here." He said softly, pulling a small ring off of his finger. "It just started working again one day." He shrugged handing it to Dean.

The elder Winchester frowned glaring angrily at the thick golden band with its polished stone setting. "What the hell is this?" He growled heatedly.

"The Resurrection Stone." Harry answered. "It's one of the three things my ancestor stole from Death."

"Wait." Sam frowned, looking at the simple ring his brother held. "Are you saying one of your ancestor's stole Death's ring, and that you can use it to bring back the dead?" He asked skeptically.

"Not just me." Harry said, glaring at the stone setting. "Anyone, but most people who use the stone go mad and kill themselves."

"Why?" Dean asked cautiously.

"The stone gives you a pathetic mockery of what you would die to get, but can never have. It brings back the souls of the people you would give anything to be with again." He answered bitterly. "Turn it and see for yourself."

"Turn it?"

The teen sighed. "Hold the ring in your hand and turn it three times."

With a raised eyebrow Dean did as the young man suggested. Then he yelped as the shades appeared. "Holy crap!"

"What?" Sam demanded. "What is it?"

Dean glanced between the shades and his brother. "Sammy can't see us." John said. Then he frowned at his older son. "You shouldn't have called us back."

"Hush." Mary Winchester said, lightly slapping her husband's arm. Then she smiled brilliantly at her children. "You've both grown so strong." She told him. Dean shivered as she reached out to touch him, but he felt nothing as she brushed a hand along his cheekbone. "I'm so proud of you both."

The stone slipped from Dean's numb fingers and the two shades disappeared. "What the hell was that?" He demanded as Harry bent to retrieve his ring.

"I would presume it your mother or father." Harry shrugged. "Parents and fiancées are usually the first to show up."

"Our dad is in Hell." The elder brother growled.

"Whether you're dead in Heaven, or dead in Hell, you are still dead." Came the soft reply. "As long as the soul remains intact, the Resurrection Stone can bring it back. Unfortunately, if the soul is shredded or devoured it's a lost cause." He frowned. "I've shown you the Stone; you've called your dead. Hold up your end of the vow; let me out of this damned apartment."

"Will you come back with us to our hotel?" Sam asked watching the teen.

Harry was quiet for several seconds before nodding. "I do want to go home, but I don't even know if home is still there." He shrugged. "At least I'll be out of here."

"Then let's get out of here." Dean said, glaring at the place where John and Mary had stood. "This place gives me the creeps."

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><p>Azreal was waiting when Sam and Dean brought Harry out of the apartment. "You." Harry frowned. "Did you bring them here?" He asked quietly.<p>

The angel nodded. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner."

"You're an angel?" He asked slowly.

"Yes."

"Then why are you so interested in me?" The teen asked slowly, anger and disgust seeping into his voice. "Is it because of what happened with Tom?"

"Who is Tom?" The younger Winchester asked curiously.

"He's the man who tried to kill me?" Harry answered, not taking his eyes from the angel.

"I am sorry about that, Harry." Azreal sighed. "I didn't dare interfere between the two of you because it would have drawn far too much attention to the two of you."

"Why?" The green eyed teen yelled suddenly. "Is it because of the Hallows? Because I'm the Chosen One? The Boy-Who-Bloody-Couldn't-Die-Without-Screwing-It-Up?"

The four were silent for a moment before Azreal shook his head sadly. "It's because I made a mistake." He admitted. "Ignatius and his brothers were my children." He confessed quietly. "And you, Harry, are the last of their bloodline."

"Wait a second." Sam muttered. "Are you saying that the kid is some sort of, what? Almost Nephilim?"

"Like bloody hell." Harry protested angrily. His eyes narrowed filling with emotion for the first time since the brothers had met him. "I'm not some damn angel, I'm not a hero, and I am not related to him!"

"Then who are you?" Dean asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer.

"Harry Bloody Potter." The teen snapped.

Azreal sighed bitterly. "I am sorry." He said softly. "I never expected anyone to find you. If you and Tom hadn't tried so hard to kill each other both of you would have remained blissfully anonymous."

"I want to go home." Harry suddenly demanded.

"You can't." Dean said softly.

"Why not?"

"Because angels and demons don't like half-breeds." He replied.

"Well neither does the rest of the world!" The teen hissed.

"Look," Sam said, trying to calm the agitated teen, "if you go home, angels and demons will follow you because they can use you to control Az, or maybe just to get rid of you. Do you really want to drag everyone you know into their stupid war?" They watched as Harry seemed to deflate. "You said you'd come back to the hotel with us. If we go ahead and head there you can at least get yourself sorted out. If you want, you can leave later. At least we won't be arguing in a public hallway."

Harry studied his rescuers for several quiet seconds before nodding his consent.

"Before we leave," the angel said softly, "Harry, do you still have the Hallows?"

"Why?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Because." Azreal answered not taking his gaze from the wizard. "They were made to keep you safe."


	6. Chapter Five

AN: Sorry for the long wait. The next chapter is written and I'll try to get it typed up soon. I hope you all enjoy. As always, I own nothing.

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><p>Chapter Five<p>

Harry watched with vague distaste as the black Impala pulled up to the cheap no-tell motel. "Well, here we are!" The elder brother announced jovially as he parked the car next to one of the worn out buildings.

"And where exactly is 'here'?" The dark haired teen asked softly.

"Just outside of New York City." Sam answered him.

"Hmm." Harry sighed slowly. "So I guess she did bring me to America after all." He mumbled to himself as the two brothers got out of the car and looked at him expectantly. Gathering up his belongings, he followed them from the car. It was a short jaunt to the room, then they paused as Dean opened the door. Sam and Dean went in first then turned to watch Harry step over the threshold. When he reached the center of the room without incident the two brothers released a sigh of relief.

With a frown, Harry glanced back over the ground he had just traversed. A thin line of salt ran the perimeter of the room, undisturbed by their entrance. He looked back at the two brothers with dull curiosity in his eyes. "Effective." He commented. "What exactly are you trying to keep out?"

"Anything not human." Sam confessed. "We haven't exactly made friends with the various boogey monsters that haunt this part of the world."

"Boogey monsters?" The teen pushed.

"You obviously know about angels and demons." Dean said. "But what other supernatural creatures do you know about?"

"More than you." Harry answered simply.

"Doubtful." The older Winchester laughed. "Sam and I are hunters. If it's supernatural and hunts people, we hunt it."

"So?" The teen shrugged.

"So?" The darker brother echoed. "So who are you? How did you do that disappearing thing back at the apartment?"

"It's not a secret." Harry answered coolly. "Half of Europe knows I have it, but most of them don't realize what it is exactly." He said gesturing to the silvery fabric in his arms.

"So what is it?" Sam asked curiously.

"An invisibility cloak." Harry said. "It belonged to my dad, and he left it for me."

"An invisibility cloak?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah." The teen nodded. "It's been in my family for generations. There's a legend that one of my ancestors stole it from Death.

"Not stolen." The three of them turned to see Azreal standing by the door. "Given. I gave Ignotus the cloak to hide him because most angels see nephilim as abominations."

"What exactly is a nephilim?" Harry huffed. "And why do you think I'm one?"

"A nephilim is a child born to a human mother with an angelic father." The angel explained gently. "And you aren't a nephilim, not truly."

"Then why the bloody hell-"

"You're descended from a nephilim." The angel confessed. "I had three children. My eldest son Emeric, my second son Loman, and my youngest child… Ignotus… you're ancestor. Emeric lost the wand I gave him in a petty fight and he was discovered. Loman also abused my gift. It was meant to call me should he find himself in danger."

"He had the Resurrection Stone?" Harry guessed.

"Yes." Azreal nodded. "His abuse of it drove him to madness and he killed himself. I let his daughter keep the Stone with the promise that she would never use it."

"And Ignotus had the cloak." Harry concluded. "When he died it was passed on to his son and on down until my dad gave it to me."

"Holy crap." Dean said softly. "So you really are Death's what? Grandson?"

"I'm not sure." The angel admitted. "Ignotus lived more three thousand years ago. Harry should be human, but Tom was Loman's descendant, and his madness effected both of you to the very core."

"Tom?" Sam frowned. "The guy that tried to kill him?"

"Tom Riddle wanted to rule the world." Harry told them. "He wanted to put 'lesser creatures' in their proper place. But mostly he wanted immortality."

"So what?" Dean asked. "Tom thought killing you would make him live forever?"

"There was a prophecy that Tom and I would kill each other." Harry spoke softly. "Makes it hard to live forever when an infant is prophesied to kill you. So he tried to kill me. But Tom screwed up. He tried to experiment with forbidden magic and in the process he fractured his soul and damaged mine." The teen elaborated painfully. "A small piece of his soul attached to mine, and he ripped a part of mine to use against me. But it was dangerous, forbidden magic. No one knew exactly how much damage had been done to both of us. When he killed me, the piece of my soul that he had stolen anchored me and pulled me back. But when he killed me he destroyed the shred of his soul that had gotten wedged inside of me. It was the last thing holding him here, so when his final killing curse backfired, it killed him."

"And that is what drew the demoness to you." Azreal informed him sadly. "Something of your heritage came through when you died and revived. When Lillith felt that, she came to explore and found you in possession of all three of my gifts. How could she not know who you are?"

The three mortals stared at the angel. "So, you're saying that because this Tom screwed with Harry's soul when he died his what? Angel gene took over and brought him back?" Dean asked.

Azreal frowned. "Yes and no. It was Tom's miscalculation that allowed Harry to survive, but the latent angelic nature certainly recognized a threat in Tom Riddle, but I cannot say how much of his angelic nature has risen to the surface because of their conflict. He's so far descended from my son Ignotus that he should have lived his life as a normal human."

"Why wasn't Tom effected?" Harry asked suddenly. "He was your descendant too. Why didn't this angelic nonsense make him stronger?"

"Tom willingly warped his soul. His magic couldn't recognize itself as a danger to itself." The angel sighed. "You were a victim of the madness that seemed to breed well into Loman's line. Every piece of your body and soul knew that madness as a threat."

"So how much will this angel thing effect him?" Sam asked pointedly.

"We'll know tomorrow." Azreal told them, closing his eyes. "True nephilim come to power on their eighteenth birthday, which is why Lillith imprisoned you on the eve of yours." He opened his eyes to look at Harry.

The green eyed teen frowned. "So I'm going to wake up tomorrow with wings?"

"It's possible." Azreal shrugged. "But unlikely. You may have some minor healing gift. Perhaps you may have the gift of tongues. I wouldn't expect you to have more than one or two of the most minor angelic gifts."

"I can live with that." Harry sighed.

"The real danger to you is that by tomorrow morning you will smell like an angel. I can already sense that you are not entirely human."

"You douche bag!" Dean growled angrily. "You're telling me that tomorrow morning this kid's gonna have a sign on his back asking every angel and demon to come and kill him?"

"How dangerous is that?" The teen asked cautiously, casting a dark look at the older brother before looking back to the angel.

"Our Father does not like us to procreate with humans." Azreal said softly. "In the lesser choirs he takes away their grace. I was locked away until the recent apocalypse. It will be dangerous, and you will be hunted, but Harry has been hunted his entire life." He said, glaring slightly at Dean. "My gifts will protect him to a point, but he knows how to hide and fight when he needs to."

Dean glanced at Sam and frowned at what he saw. "No! No way man!"

"But Dean, we could help! We could at least show him a few devil's traps."

The older Winchester glared at his younger sibling's begging eyes. "Fine. But just a few days! I'm not hanging some friggin' steak around my neck just to keep you happy." He finally conceded.

"I'll stay." Harry agreed softly. "But only until I can find out what's going on back home. There're too many things that I need to tend to there. Hell," his laugh croaked out loudly, "I don't even know if my houses are still standing or if there's any gold left in my vault."

Dean smiled greedily at the word gold, but then he sighed. A quick glance at the darkening sky outside the window had him wincing. "Crap. I need a beer." He sighed. "Sam, you stay here with Angel Bait and Az. I'm gonna make a food run."

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When Dean returned with the food Azreal was gone and Harry was drilling Sam on world events from the past six years. They paused at the sound of the older brother opening the door and rushed to grab the fast food bags from his hands as the door closed behind him.

"You kiddies been good?" He asked jovially. He smiled at his brother's pinched expression. The smile faded when he caught the younger man's stoic face. "C'mon, that was a joke." He said trying to get a smile. "Or maybe not." He shrugged when he was presented with dead green eyes.

"So," Harry and Dean turned to face Sam who was dishing out the cheap junk food, "Harry, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"What's there to know?" The teen asked dully. "My entire life is probably a seven volume novel by now." He shrugged. "Lillith told me they wrote a book."

"Someone wrote a book about you?" the younger brother asked shocked.

"When your family is murdered when you're a baby and you miraculously survive, you make headlines." He said softly. "When you accidentally kill their murderer several times, people start to idolize you."

"What happened to them?" Dean asked curiously, earning a glare from his younger brother. "Your parents?"

"Tom killed them." Harry's voice was tired as if he'd told the story far too many times. "Tom heard that bloody prophecy and decided it meant he needed to kill me. My mum and dad found out he was coming for us and hid."

Sam frowned. "But if they were hiding how did he-"

"We were betrayed." Harry explained wearily. "One of my dad's friends told Tom where we were hiding. He came to our house on Halloween. My dad fought him at the door. It was a short fight. Then he came to the nursery. My mum was trying to stop him. I remember her begging. But he killed her too."

"Then what happened?" Dean asked, caught up in the story despite himself.

"He tried to kill me." Harry shrugged. "But the curse backfired and hit him instead."

"The first time you 'killed' him?" The younger Winchester guessed.

Harry nodded. "My mother's willing sacrifice made the curse reflect off of me. It should have killed Tom. But by then Tom's soul was already so severed that it only destroyed his physical body. He spent the next thirteen years hiding trying to get a new body."

"I'm guessing he succeeded?"

The emerald eyes flickered to the older brother as he nodded. "When I was fourteen he kidnapped me from my school and used my blood and my mother's sacrifice to create his new body. It restarted a war that we almost lost. In the end it was sheer dumb luck and damn Gryffindor stubbornness that saved us. It was luck that I mastered all three Hallows, and Neville's stubbornness in refusing to bow to Tom and my own stubbornness that I would face Tom alone in the end."

"Okay." Dean frowned. "What exactly are these 'Hallows' you keep talking about?"

"The three Deathly Hallows are the three items that the three brothers tricked Death into giving them. Only, according to the story, they were traps. An unbeatable wand that changes it's allegiance like a person changes socks, a stone that brings back the dead so that they can tempt you into joining them in death, and the greatest, an invisibility cloak that not even Death can see through."

Dean glanced over to the silvery cloak that Harry had left lying on one of the beds before landing on the ring sitting innocently on his left forefinger. "You said a wand too." He said carefully. "You mean like a magician's magic wand?"

The brothers watched as Harry's eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times before speaking again. "Oh, bloody hell. Don't tell me you two are muggles." He finally huffed in exasperation.

"What's a muggle?" Dean demanded, offended.

"You are." Harry sighed. "No wonder you don't already know about all of this. You two are muggles."

"What the hell are muggles!" Dean all but yelled.

Harry shrugged. "In for a knut in for a galleon. A muggle is what my people call your people."

"What exactly do you mean 'your people'?" Sam asked slowly.

"I'm a wizard." Harry confessed. "My mum was a witch and my dad was a pureblood, nothing but witches and wizards going back for generations."

"You use magic?" The elder Winchester demanded angrily.

"I have to use magic." The young wizard said patiently. "I'm a wizard. I was born with magic. If I don't use it, it will use me."

"I've never met a witch with that problem." Sam said softly.

The teen laughed. "I'd wager you've never met a real witch. A real witch or wizard wouldn't tell you what they are."

"Why not?" Dean pressed. "Are you people afraid of getting burned at the stake?"

"Merlin no." Harry waved dismissively. "From what I understand that can be quite enjoyable with the right charms. No witch or wizard would ever tell a muggle about themselves because of the Statute of Secrecy. It's one of the few international laws we have. 'Don't let the muggles know about the Wizarding World'."

"Why not?" Sam asked. "What happens if muggles find out?"

"Mostly they become obnoxious. They want magical cures for everything and make pests of themselves." The teen grimaced. "Not all muggles of course. Some of the crueler ones will torture a witch or wizard until they loose control of their magic."

"I'd think that would be a good thing." Dean growled darkly.

He was met with surprisingly cold, hard, emerald eyes. "No." Harry said icily. "It's very bad. The magic doesn't go away. It's still there, but you no longer have any control over it. It will lash out every time you get scared or excited. Every strong emotion has unimaginable potential for harm and exposure. It's a dangerous and tragic thing that usually ends with someone in Azkaban of St. Mungo's."

"What are those?" The younger hunter asked quietly.

"St. Mungo's is one of the best magical hospitals in the world."

"And the other?"

Harry frowned at Dean. "It's the prison." He whispered. "We only have one because we only need one. It's haunted by the foulest, darkest creatures known to wizard-kind, and they are allowed to feed on the prisoners. Most people will do anything to stay out of it."

"So what happens to you?" Sam asked suddenly. "Aren't you breaking the law by telling us all of this?"

The teen shrugged. "Depends. They may just give me a warning. They might crucify me and sentence me to life in Azkaban. Merlin's balls, I'm Harry Bloody Potter; they might just pretend it never happened."


	7. Chapter Six

AN: First of all, since I didn't add this to the last chapter,_** THANK YOU!**_ to everyone who reviewed/followed/favorited this story while it was in waiting. You are so amazing, and thank you for the patience and willingness to wait. I hope it was worth it. I answered some questions in this chapter, but not all. Remember, Harry has been MIA for _six years_. There're are going to be a lot of questions and missing information simply because Harry doesn't know yet, and you'll find out what's going on with the world as Harry does. Anyways, I'm glad I could finally give you all this update. I hope you enjoy. As always I own nothing. BTW, if you want to know the music for this chapter was One OK Rock and Imagine Dragons.

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><p>Chapter Six<p>

The trio finished their meal in silence waiting for what Harry called the 'Ministries response' to his little confession. When nothing had happened by the end of their simple dinner Harry sighed. "Either they've decided not to act," he shrugged, "or Lillith was telling the truth and they think I'm dead."

"So what are you planning to do?" Sam asked sympathetically.

"I suppose first I need to get some new clothes." The teen mused. "Tomorrow these clothes will finally be dirty and that she-demon didn't exactly give me time to pack.

"You said you had gold." Dean spoke up. "Do you think you'll be able to access it?"

"I don't' know." He admitted moving to the bed closest to the bathroom. "But it shouldn't be that difficult to get clothes. My elf tends to hoard things and my house is cursed. Not to mention Kreacher has permission to maul anyone who tires to steal from me again."

The brothers stared at their guest. "I don't even know where to start." The older one frowned. "You have an elf? You live in a haunted house? Creatures are mauling people?"

Harry smiled, a slight up turning of his lips. "I know. It's a lot to take in. I was raised by muggles and it still seems like a dream sometimes."

"So," Sam asked, "if you were raised by… normal folks, how did you find out about all of this?"

"I got my letter." He answered fighting back a yawn. "Every witch and wizard gets a letter the summer before their eleventh birthday inviting them to study at a school for magic. I went to Hogwarts in Scotland, though there are at least two more that I know of in Europe and several more worldwide."

"That you know of?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Yeah." The wizard nodded. "The schools are extremely competitive. Like lethally competitive. The ministry strictly monitors inter-school competitions to keep contestants from getting killed. And each school teaches a certain style. Like Durmstrang has a particularly heavy hand and Beuxbatons has a ridiculously delicate touch sometimes. They say that Durmstrang teaches the Dark Arts, but I don't believe that. I've known some of their students and the only one that used dark magic was not operating in his right mind at the time."

"What do you mean?" Dean pressed.

"He was under the Imperius Curse." Harry said darkly. "Another wizard was controlling him. That was the night that Tom came back." He finished softly.

"Kid, you're beat." Sam said kindly. "We can finish this in the morning. For now, just get some sleep."

Harry nodded, lying back on the bed. Soon he was asleep. Dean glared at his baby brother. "I'm not so sure about this." He grumbled. "The kid is some sort of angel bait magic witch boy."

Sam returned the glare. "He was born this way." He admonished. "He can't help how he was born."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." Dean growled.

"No, but you have to deal with it." Sam snapped.

"And just how do you suggest we do that?"

"We can take him to Bobby." Sam decided firmly. "He'll know what to do."

"Whatever man." Dean huffed. "I'm going to bed. And just in case the kid kills us in our sleep I'm saying 'I told you so' now."

Sam rolled his eyes as his brother moved to take the other bed leaving him to call the office for a cot.

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Harry woke just after midnight with a screaming headache. Wincing in pain he tried to get up hoping to find some painkillers, but instead he hit the floor with a loud hard crash waking the two brothers. Sam and Dean bolted awake as the teen screamed in sudden agony.

"Harry?" Dean yelled. "C'mon kid! Snap out of it!"

"Scar!" Harry shrieked.

"What scar?" Sam asked urgently caught between trying to check the veritable maze of old wounds and attempting to lift the younger man back onto the bed.

As soon as the hunter touched him the teen was bathed in a soft golden nimbus that seemed to emanate from his pale skin. As he lay screaming it pulsed once, twice, and then was gone leaving Harry panting and unresponsive on the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.

"It was a powerful angelic nature healing it's host." The hunters spun at the familiar gruff voice to see Castiel standing angrily behind them. "Why do you have a nephilim and where did you find it?"

"Wait. You said powerful." Dean grasped. "But Azreal said he'd only have minor angel powers."

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "How does Azreal know about this nephilim?"

"He asked us to let him out. He was trapped." Sam confessed frowning. "But he said that Harry wouldn't be very strong."

"He was wrong." The angel refuted. "This nephilim has the presence of an angelic warrior."

"What does that mean?" The older Winchester asked with disgust.

The angel regarded the unconscious teen before bending down and lifting him back up onto the bed. "There are only a few angels that could give their nephilim offspring such strength." He said monotonously. "I do not envy any angel who challenges him."

"So what was the light?" Sam asked.

"A healing. This body was badly damaged in some way. Angelic presence will not abide a damaged body, so he healed himself."

"Azreal said he wouldn't be able to heal."

"I wonder why my brother chose to free this creature." Castiel mused darkly before looking at the younger brother. "He can heal, himself only though. This child has a warrior's soul. Warriors do not heal; they fight."

"Fight what?" Dean asked flatly.

"Evil." The angel said as if the answer should have been obvious.

"Right, evil. Shoulda guessed that." Dean grumbled.

Castiel blinked at the brothers before turning his gaze to the sleeping half blood. "I will stay until he wakes." He stated firmly. "I have many questions for this nephilim."

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The sun was high in the sky when Harry woke again. He blinked slowly, wincing as muscles protested the abuse of the night before. He spared a moment to smile as his mind registered that yesterday had _happened._ He was _finally_ eighteen. Then the smile faded. Sighing he braced himself and slowly rose from the bed mindful of protesting body. "I feel like someone used a damn Cruciatus." He grumbled to the room in general. When no one answered him his eyes flickered around the room half expecting to find out it had been a dream and he was back in the thrice-damned apartment. A silent sigh of relief escaped as he was met with the empty hotel room. "Sam?" He called. "Dean?"

With a soft grunt the teen stumbled off the bed and towards the bathroom of the small suite. He froze in front of the large mirror as his gaze met the not-so-blurry reflection. "Merlin…" he whispered blinking at himself. A quick glance at his hands showed perfect, flawless flesh. The scars from Umbridge and Gringotts were gone. Hastily he rolled up his sleeve expecting to find the scars from the basilisk and the graveyard. Gone. All that remained was perfect unmarred skin. With trembling hands he lifted his bangs from his forehead. The skin was smooth. The lightening bolt scar he had born for as long as he could remember had vanished. Every mark left by Tom Riddle and the war had disappeared overnight. For several seconds he stood absorbing the shock of the loss of his single most defining feature.

Then he laughed, sinking to the ground…

It was several minutes before the laughter slowly choked into a sob before fading away, the emotions behind it dry and spent. With a deep shaky sigh Harry rose from where he had sunk. Facing the stranger in the mirror he swiped at the tear streaks trailing down his now fleshed out cheeks and examined his new self. His face was still angular, but no longer thin from years of unhealthy eating. His skin was still a bit pale, but much tanner than it had ever been before except during quidditch season. He emerald eyes were brighter than they had been. The wild black hair was full and light. Taller. He frowned. He was taller, and more muscled, as though the years of starvation and neglect at the hands of the Dursleys had never happened. Every flaw was gone. Steeling himself he closed his eyes, licked his lips, and swallowed. "Kreacher." He summoned. "Come to your master."

A light crack made him turn to find the wizened elf bowing, tears leaking from his eyes. "Master Harry has returned to his Kreacher." The elf muttered happily. "Kreacher knew his master lived. Kreacher and Winky are keeping Master's estates in order."

"Thank you." Harry said, kneeling to look the gnarled creature in the eyes. "You've done well." He waited for a moment for the elf to collect himself before going on. "Kreacher, do you know where my holly wand is?"

"Mrs. Weasley is having Master's wand." He nodded licking his thin lips. "The Mistress is giving it to her before she is dying."

"I see." The green-eyed wizard frowned, nodding to himself. "And my vaults at Gringotts?"

"The goblins is having no record of Master's death. Kreacher is having Master's key."

"Good." Harry nodded. "Can you bring me a small bag of clothes? And some of the gold stashed in Grimmauld Place?" The elf nodded eagerly. "And tell Ron and Hermione that I'm free. I'll come home as soon as I can."

"Yes, Master." Kreacher nodded bowing.

"Thank you Kreacher." The teen smiled sadly. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a good friend."

The ancient house elf beamed at the praise and the disappeared with another small crack.


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** Hello again! Look, another chapter! And it hasn't even been a year! Lol. Thank you all for the lovely reviews and support! You are all so great! I know this one seems a bit short, but would you believe it was nearly 15 pages written out? I'll try to get the next one out soon, but no promises. My internet connection is on the fritz right now. :'( Which, btw means I must apologize for any errors since I'm literally uploading this from my phone. Thank the fanfic gods for smartphones.

To answer a few question, no for obvious reasons Harry will not get back with Ginny. She's dead and no one is going to go dragging her back into life. If anything were to set Harry off, that would do it. Secondly, there will be no official pairing for this story. I am planning a couple of side stories to show the pairing in my own mind, but for now they will not be written. The side fic will only be published when I finish this one, and until then the pairings are up to your imagination. Feel free to read in some hints of innuendo. Lol. I'm curious to see what you come up with.

As for when, this takes place sometime after Sam gets his soul back, Bobby gets his legs back, but before Cas goes dark side. It's a window of just a few episodes, but that's as firm as I am on the when of this one.

Anyway, on to the fic, I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter Seven<p>

Harry was just dressing after a long shower when he heard the click of the hotel door's lock. The door opened, and the wizard listened as Sam and Dean entered, arguing with a third person whose voice he didn't recognize. "Harry?" Dean yelled. "Are you still here? We've got someone who to meet you!"

He glanced again at the unfamiliar reflection before smoothing down the fairy silk shirt and straightening the familial rings he had only just begun to wear when he had been taken. Running a hand through his still unruly hair, he opened the door and stepped out into the main room.

"Damn." The elder Winchester said, taking in the black slacks and silken emerald shirt. "You clean up nice."

"So I've been told." Harry shrugged. He glanced over to the impassive stranger lurking quietly by the door. Frowning as his instincts warned him away from the stoic man, he moved so a bed was between him and the stranger. "Who is he?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord." The man said gruffly. "My name is Castiel."

"Harry." The teen nodded. "Are you here to kill me?" He asked bluntly.

"I am not sure yet." The angel answered with equal frankness. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I demon dragged my arse here." Harry replied wryly.

"Then you know what you are nephilim?"

"I'm not a nephilim." The youth frowned. "My parents were both human."

"One of your parents was an angel." Castiel insisted. "You are a true nephilim. I have not met one so strong in many centuries."

"You're wrong." The teen denied. "Azreal said I wouldn't be that strong."

"How is Azreal aware of your existence? Why is he protecting you?" The three men shared an unsure look, but didn't answer the angel. Castiel frowned, eyeing Harry warily. "You have a very strong angelic nature. If it does not drive you mad, you could be a great warrior. For now I shall simply… observe." Then the angel was gone.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Harry said softly, his tone speaking volumes.

"I wish I knew." Dean frowned.

"So you just brought some random angel in here, after Az said the angels want to kill me, because… why?" The teen sighed, looking at the two brothers. "And where were you?"

"Cas is an old friend." Dean defended him. "He wanted to wake you up so we felt he needed a distraction."

Harry nodded his thanks, the bent to pick up a small rucksack that had lain unnoticed on the floor by the bed. "Where'd that come from?" Sam frowned as the young wizard started digging in it.

"My elf." He answered. "I don't know when I'll get back to England, so he packed some things for me."

The two hunters quickly let their eyes dart around the room to the undisturbed salt lines and devil's traps at the doors and windows. "How'd it get in?"

"More importantly," Dean bit tersely, "why'd you let a damn fairy into our room?"

"He's a house elf, not a fairy." Harry rolled his eyes. "And trust me I don't like fairies. They're as bad as pixies about biting. As for how he got in?" He shrugged, thrusting his arm impossibly deep into the small brown sack. "He's a house elf. They go where they need to. No one really knows how house elf magic works. I don't think they even really understand it. By the way, have you two eaten?" He asked, finally pulling out a toothbrush. He glanced up at them and the two were startled to see a mild, but genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"No." Sam said, shaking his head. "We were waiting for you."

"Good." Harry nodded with a small smile. "Kreacher offered to make you a real breakfast as thanks for rescuing me." He informed them, moving to the bathroom.

"You seem to be in a better mood." Dean observed.

Harry shrugged. "Breaking out of prison will do that to you." He said as he disappeared from view.

The brothers listened as the water turned on and the door clapped closed. "Dude?" Dean mumbled, looking at his younger brother. "Who the hell is Creature?"

"The elf I guess." Sam shrugged. A few moments later Harry reappeared and Dean repeated the question.

The teen frowned thoughtfully. "Yes, perhaps I should call them. You should probably meet them sooner rather than later. And it would not be good if you accidentally shot someone's elf simply because you didn't recognize it for what it was." He threw a wry glance at the two hunters' weapons, which lay in organized disarray around the room.

"Meet who?" Sam frowned at Harry's unusually cryptic remark. At least, he assumed it was unusual. So far Harry had seemed fairly blunt.

"My elves." He answered calmly. "It seems I've acquired a few more since my incarceration."

"How do you 'acquire' elves?" Dean asked wryly.

The teen shrugged. "I have no idea." He confessed. "I inherited Kreacher from my Godfather, but Winky was a free elf the last time I saw her, and I haven't exactly been around to purchase her or her twins."

"Those are your elves?" Sam guessed, frowning at the odd phrasing.

Harry nodded. "Have you decided what you want for breakfast?" He asked. "You can have anything you'd like, but keep in mind that if you ask for anything elaborate it will take a bit longer for them to make it."

"Bacon and eggs?" The older brother asked.

"Dude!" Sam hissed.

"What?" He defended. "The kid is offering food!"

"It's alright." Harry assured. "Bacon and eggs is perfectly doable. What would you like?"

The younger brother glared at his older sibling before sighing. "I guess I'll just have whatever you're having." He finally caved.

"Are you sure?" Harry smiled. "I told Kreacher to make me a full Scottish breakfast. I haven't had one since I left school, and even then we didn't get them all that often. It's good, but it's a _lot_ of food and not everyone likes the look of black porridge."

Sam shot another glare at his brother's snort of amusement. "Then I'll just have bacon and eggs."

"You sure, Sammy?" The older Winchester grinned. "Harry's breakfast sounds delicious."

"Jerk." Sam growled.

"Bitch." Dean smiled.

Their guest watched them for a moment before deciding he didn't care about their little squabble. "Gred." He called calmly. The brothers started as he seemingly spoke to himself. "Tell Kreacher that the brothers both want bacon and eggs."

There was a soft pop and a small knobby creature appeared, bowing low enough that it's bulbous nose touched the floor. "Would Master's rescuers like toasts and jams as well?" It asked in a squeaky voice, looking up with enormous green eyes that were almost shinning with worshipful delight.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the two hunters who were trying desperately not to go for their guns. Sam swallowed visibly and nodded. "Strawberry." He answered in a choked voice. Dean simply scowled at the back of the little thing's head.

"Yes." Harry told it. "They like strawberry jam."

"Yes Master!" The elf squeaked. Then it was gone again with a faint pop.

"Was that thing wearing a hand towel?" Dean asked after a moment of startled silence.

"Tea towel." Harry corrected. "Kreacher requested them." He explained. "Table clothes are too big and pillow cases aren't versatile enough."

"What did you call that thing?" Sam frowned.

"That was Gred. Her brother's name is Forge. Winky apparently named them after some old friends of mine." He said with a slightly bitter sadness in his voice.

"So what exactly are these things?" Dean asked quickly, changing the subject. "I mean, are they dangerous?"

The teen shrugged. "They can be when they need to be. But for the most part they're like the little elves in The Elves and the Shoemaker. They stay with their family and do whatever is needed. They love to cook and clean and take care of people. They do whatever their told, without question. As for are they evil?" He tossed a startling perceptive glance at the older hunter. "They do what they're told. They cannot disobey their family without sever consequences. I've seen them forced to bash their heads into walls, bludgeon themselves with bed-knobs, and my personal favorite, iron their own hands." He said blackly. "The elves are good for the most part, but you can judge them by their family. If the family treats the elf well you get what you saw with Gred. Happy blind obedience. I could ask Gred to kill herself and she would happily, not that I ever would. In fact, because of his last family's treatment, Kreacher's highest ambition is for me to mount his head on my wall as soon as he drops a tea tray." He winced. "If you mistreat them you get what the Malfoys got out of their elf. He never outright disobeyed, but he twisted their orders as best he could, interpreted them as liberally as his magic would allow and punished himself frequently until I managed to trick them into freeing him in self defense."

"Did they order him to kill you or something?" Dean growled.

"No, quite the opposite. They were scheming to kill me themselves, and Dobby was trying to save my life. He nearly killed me three times trying to save me." He smiled. "Dobby was one of my truest friends."

"So, what ever you tell them to do, they have to do it?" Sam reasoned.

"Yes. Even if you demand the impossible from them, but they only have to obey their family."

"So they're slaves?" The younger brother demanded.

"Don't get all noble on me." Harry frowned. "You'll only upset them."

"But-"

"No, look. If you start talking about freedom and clothes, they will make you miserable. I promise. You'll find rats in your clothes, inedible food on your plate, and don't even ask what they'll do to you in the loo. They'll have to punish themselves later, but they'll still do it. I might even order them not to punish themselves just to save my own hygiene if you start that nonsense!" He gave Sam a stern glare. "I _like_ not having to cook, or do laundry, or scrub the floors, or clean the loo. I got enough of that at my aunt's house. Besides, the elves _enjoy_ taking care of their family. Most elves are perfectly happy making the wizards they serve happy."

"You said most, not all." The younger Winchester leaped on his phrasing.

"Yeah, well, you get weird ones in any lot. Remember Dobby? The biggest reason I was able to free him was because he wanted to be paid. He _wanted_ to be free. He could have totally ignored the sock I slipped into that diary Malfoy handed him. He was an incredible elf, and a loyal friend who saved my life at the cost of his own because he _chose _to. He was free and on the run like the rest of us, but he was brave and loyal and I'd bring him back if I could. Merlin's beard, if he'd survived the war I'd have hired him as soon as I reclaimed my home."

"How do you know they don't want to be free?" Sam demanded.

"Because Winky was free once." Harry informed them. "And while she was free she was a drunken mess. I don't know how my Gin-" He choked back something bitter as pain flitted across his face for a second. "I don't know how she managed to get enslaved again, but I'm happy for her." He finished quickly.

With a light pop a small feast appeared on the room's small table. Harry smiled bitterly at the food. "Tuck in." He said quietly. "Feel free to eat my share. I seem to have lost my appetite. I promise the elves won't have done anything to it yet." He tossed over his shoulder as he turned to venture back into the bathroom.

"Um Harry?" Dean called quickly after him.

"Yes?" he paused without turning back to look at them.

"We, uh, we'd like you to talk to a friend of ours."

"Another angel?" The teen asked dully, a sharp contrast from the early cheer that had lasted so briefly.

"No. He's a hunter like us. He's a good guy, and he knows what's what."

"I see." The teen said, continuing on to the only privacy afforded by the suit. "That's fine. I would like to post my mates back home to see who's still around, but until then I don't really care." The door to the bathroom clicked quietly closed again, leaving the brothers in an awkward silence.

"What just happened?" Dean frowned. He winced when Sam's open palm met the back of his head. "What the hell, dude?"

Sam glanced guiltily at the bathroom before looking back at the food. "Just eat your breakfast." He sighed at his older brother.

NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD

Harry stood in the bathroom, staring at the stranger in the mirror as he quietly swiped angry tears. Slowly his eyes traveled to the small ring on his right hand. The one that had replaced his engagement ring the morning the demoness had greeted him with the news of his dead fiancée, and… he stopped the thought, knowing he couldn't let the brothers hear the broken cries he would undoubtedly sink to if he continued it. For a moment he stared at the deathly hallow, rubbing it unconsciously with his left hand as he fought the impulse to twist it.

"Ginny." He whispered brokenly as he bowed over the newly cleaned counter. "Oh, Ginny…"


	9. Chapter Eight

AN: Okay, for all of you who are concerned, I am well aware of the warnings about using partial Bible verses. There's a reason the verse in the first chapter is so long and had that bit about a person's life span. It's s beause I used the whole passage, in its entirety! I thank you for your concern, and your warnings. Rest assured, I thought long and hard about it before I even started writing this story.

Also, once again I'm posting this on the go. I've tried my best to check for errors, but please forgive any that I may have missed.

And one final note. There is a Japanese inspired namein this chapter. It is pronounced 'foo-Roo-koo' for those who are unfamiliar with their pronunciation. It's not a Japanese name;it's just pronounced like one. And thank you again for all the kind reviews. :)

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><p><span>Chapter Eight<span>

Half way between Bobby's place in South Dakota and the not-so-haunted apartment in New York, the teen demanded they stop. The two brothers turned to look at the teen who was staring avidly at a large acreage with a single dirt road running through it. "What is it? " Dean frowned as Harry got out of the car.

The teen smiled. "It's Roanoke." He answered, leaning in through Sam's open window. "I'll be able to arrange a port key there."

The Winchesters frowned. "Roanoke is on the coast." Sam pointed out.

"No." Harry corrected. "It _was_ on the coast. As soon as the muggles left they relocated."

"Okay," Dean protested. "But that's an empty corn field with sink holes." The other two turned to see the posted warning sign.

The young wizard seemed to have to focus before he could see it, but when he could he simply shrugged. "Don't worry. That's just to keep the muggles out. They had a similar charm at school. For the most part it's only used on our schools and anti-muggle towns like Hogsmeade and," he gestured, "Roanoke."

"Anti-muggle towns?" Sam asked curiously.

"We can't hide all the time." Harry sighed. "And people tend to notice things like chocolate frogs and racing brooms."

The brothers exchanged slightly disgusted looks. "Chocolate frogs?" Dean asked slowly.

"It's just a spell."

"Witches don't really ride brooms." Sam said with an amused smile.

The wizard rolled his eyes. "I told you, I doubt you've ever met a real witch. Are you coming or are we just going to sit here in the car all day and think about going into town?"

"Someone has to stay with the car." Dean announced, smiling deviously at his younger brother.

Sam started to pout. "Both of you." Harry said irritably. "Get out."

"What?"

"Why?"

He just glared at them. Finally, they both got out of the vehicle. From seemingly nowhere, the young wizard pulled out a knobby wand. With a muttered incantation and a light tap, the car started to melt from the place where Harry's wand had touched it. "What did you do to my baby!" Dean shrieked.

"It's a simple disillusionment charm." He said coolly. "Now, are you coming? Or would you rather stand around in the middle of nowhere looking like an idiot?"

"I'm coming." Dean growled.

"How do we find the car again?" Sam asked. "I mean, it's invisible now, so how do we know we won't loose it?"

"We apperate back to it." Harry said with dieing patience. "I don't want to apperate home because I'm a bit out of practice and I'd rather not splinch myself, but I can move us a few kilometers without any trouble. "

"What's splinching?" Dean asked suspiciously. "It sounds painful."

"It can be." Harry admitted. "It depends on how bad it is. It's when you apperate and you leave something behind."

"What, like a shoe?" Sam asked.

"Like a leg or an arm." Came the not-so-reassuring correction. "When we were learning my best mate went and splinched off his left eyebrow. That wasn't so bad. But when we had to evacuate my home during the war, Hermione accidentally splinched a good part of his arm." He licked his lips nervously. "It was damn lucky she kept some dittany on her, or he could have bled to death."

"I am so not apperating." The older Winchester said firmly.

Harry flushed. "I'll have you know I've never splinched anyone!" He said heatedly.

"Still," Sam said softly, "is there another way?"

"Locantus." Harry said irritably with a quick swish and flick of his wand. "There." He huffed. "A quick 'point me' will have us back in no time." He grumbled. "But don't you dare let me forget to reset my 'point me'." Then he started off down the dirt road, leaving the brothers to follow or not.

After several minutes of walking, and more than a few doubtfully worried glances between the two brothers, Harry turned to them with a smile. "We're right on the edge of town." He announced. "You two should be able to see it any minute. "

"Won't it cause a problem if you bring two muggles into an anti-muggle town?" Sam asked.

"No." The teen wizard scoffed. "Just because we keep to ourselves doesn't mean no one knows about us. I mean, almost every witch or wizard has a muggle or a squib on their family tree somewhere. And that's not even counting the muggle borns. We have to tell their parents something when we send them off to school."

As he spoke, they passed the inner edge of the boundary spells and the thriving town of Roanoke was revealed. The first few houses garnered looks of open awe from the brothers. The large plantation manors stood in gleaming testament to their owner's magical wealth and prowess with multiple chimneys, windows, and landing runways on which several carpets floated lazily.

"Dude, what is that? "

Harry glanced to where a Dean was watching a large tree pummel an unfortunate songbird. "A whomping willow." He shrugged. "They're supposed to be quite valuable, though I've never seen the appeal."

"Oh."

"Stay away from that house." The teen advised, pointing to a pleasant looking cabin.

"Why?" Asked Sam, who had been drifting towards the home and its garden.

"Because I can see at least five plants that can kill you and at least two more that will attract creatures that will kill you." Harry said.

"Then why do they have them?" The older hunter growled.

"Because they're valuable." Was the simple explanation. "You do not want to know the price of mandrake roots. It's much cheaper to grow them, even if they do try to kill you every time you have to re-pot them."

Soon they had passed the wealthy outskirts and into the city proper. The brothers gaped openly at the bustling chaos of a town that had been left at the turn of the last century. A wooden sidewalk lined a dusty dirt road. Hitching posts were dotted sporadically in front of businesses at which were tied winged horses, unicorns, and one sickeningly draconic looking equine that eyed them hungrily.

"What the hell? " Dean hissed.

"It's a thestral." Harry said, eyeing the brothers speculatively. "They're pretty handy, though most wizards don't use them."

"Why?" Sam frowned. " Are they dangerous?"

"No." Came the soft reply. "But they get a bad rap, because most people can't see them. "

"Why not?" The younger Winchester asked curiously.

Harry watched the two as he answered, a strange, considering look in his emerald gaze. "Because you can only see thestrals if you've seen Death." He said quietly. "Come on, or we'll be here all day." And turning on his heel he again left the brothers to follow or be left behind.

Trotting quickly behind him, the two hunters continued to gawk at the brilliant store fronts. In one, a small golden orb whizzed about fitfully in a golden cage, held aloft by tiny filigree wings. On either side of it slim brooms were displayed on elegant racks to entice shoppers. In another store moving manicans strutted about in peacock bright robes. A third store was filled with creatures that defied description. The brothers stared at the fanged, scaley goat that was tied out front with a dead gopher at its feet.

"Is that a real chupacabra?" Sam frowned.

"Yeah." Dean nodded tensely, his hand twitching for a weapon. "Why the hell are they selling that thing?"

"Because they eat garden gnomes." Harry answered pointing to the sign advertising the carnivorous beast as he moved towards the shop.

What are you doing? " The younger brother asked with thinly veiled confused anger.

"I'm going to see if they sell post owls." He said, turning to roll his eyes at their obvious consternation . "My last owl died when Az's friend attacked me. I also plan to ask where the nearest branch of Gringott's is." He turned again to the shop. Sam and Dean followed him, keeping a wary eye on the chupacabra.

Inside was bedlam. Bats hung from various fixtures; strange two-tailed terriers yapped angrily from their pens. In a large fire place red salamanders spit flames. And in a large glass box strange, almost shapeless blobs were exploding. "Blast-endded skrewts." Harry commented, pursing his lips. "Class four restricted creatures."

"Why?" Dean asked. "The explosions aren't that big."

"And I'll wager they aren't more than a month old." The young wizard frowned. "Just wait till they get bigger. The males have a nasty sting and the females explode from both ends, not to mention they eat anything that moves."

"So they're carnivorous?" Sam queried.

Harry nodded. "At school we used to feed them ferrets and rabbits, but they prefer to eat people."

"Why are they selling pets like that?" The older brother demanded.

"They aren't pets." He pointed to the sign. "They're used to guard vaults, like a dragon or a basilisk, though it makes it hard for you to get in as well as anyone you're trying to keep out. And the goblins charge a fee for the creatures upkeep, if you can call it that." He said with a slight bite to his tone. Then with a bitter sigh and a jerk of his head he led the brothers to a large peck of owls sleepily watching the people in the shop.

"Looking for a post owl? " Asked a twitchy man coming over to them. "We have the finest in the world! " He boasted. "Is this your first owl?" He glanced slyly to Dean and Sam's obvious muggle confusion before turning greedy eyes on the younger wizard.

"This will be my third owl." Harry told him with a shrewd look. "I got the other two from Eyelop's in Diagon Alley."

"Surely not your third?." The man asked in confusion. "Owls live for several years."

"I was involved in the war." Harry said shortly. "My first owl took an Unforgivable for me. The second one died taking the same curse for my fiance."

The man paled as he looked a bit closer at the teen. "What's your name? " He asked quietly.

"Potter." Harry said coolly. "Harry Potter."

"Impossible." He whispered, much to the Winchester's further confusion. "Harry Potter's been dead for years. He was all set to marry that Weasley girl, and then he got mixed up with that demon... You can't be Harry Potter... You're supposed to be dead..."

"No one is that lucky." Harry sighed bitterly. "Believe me, that thing took great pleasure in keeping me alive. Post owl." He said looking irritably at the man. "She'll need to be able to cover distances. I've been rather spoiled for owls over the years."

"I've got several snowy owls." The man smiled greedily. "I hear you've a liking for that breed."

"I do." Harry agreed. "I also have bad luck with them." He said, holding up the fingers and wiggling them. "That's why I'm on my third owl. Do you have anything less showy?"

"I have several eagle owls-"

"I said less showy." Harry frowned. "Besides eagle owls at far too cocky."

"Then perhaps a gray-"

"Too large. "

"A screech-"

"Too loud."

"A barn-"

"Too rude."

"A scops-"

"Too small."

"Jeeze dude!" Dean bust in exasperation. "Just grab a damn bird and let's go before something tries to eat someone and we have to kill it. "

The shop proprietor gave the hunter a scandalized look. "My animals would never-"

"You have class 4 non-tradeables in here." Harry snapped. "They most certainly would. But an owl, please. "

The thin man swallowed nervously, glancing between the teen and the two hunters. "You really are Harry Potter?"

"I am. Do you want a list of my wands?"

"No, Master Potter." He shook his head quickly. "That won't be necessary." He swallowed nervously, glancing back to Dean. "Just, please, wait here one moment. And don't kill anything."

The man scuttled into the back of the shop leaving the three men standing in front of the lazily watching owls. "Master Potter?" Sam frowned.

"My dad was a pureblood." He shrugged, his hands slipping into his pants pockets. "It's the closest thing to royalty we recognize." Before they could ask anything else, the man returned with a stunning tan owl tied with jesses and hooded like any common muggle falcon. "What is this?" The eighteen-year-old demanded flatly.

"She's my strongest owl." The man said sourly. "A Blakiston's. You have no idea how hard it is to get these owls out of Asia. If I could just tame her I could demand a king's ransom for her."

"Take off the hood." Harry snapped, his emerald gaze sharp. "And the jesses."

"But sir-"

"Take them off." He bit out through clenched teeth. "If you treat her like a dumb beast she'll act like one."

The man rose to his full height, tall compared to Harry and Dean, but still shorter than Sam. "Have you ever trained a post owl?"

"Do what he wants." Sam frowned. "What's the harm?"

"She's already laid into four people just getting her here." The man protested.

With a low growl, Harry pulled out his right hand from his pocket holding a rather large sack tied with a thin gold rope, a large ornate 'G' adorning the front. With a jerk of the strings, the bag opened allowing Harry to slip his other hand inside and pull it out full of gold coins. "Ten thousand galleons." He said slowly, letting the coins drip back into the bag. "Free my owl."

"Twenty." The man said, licking his lips, his eyes glued to the sack.

"Done." Harry agreed. As the brothers watched with wide eyes, Harry moved to the counter and counted out several stacks of the gold coins.

Still holding the bound owl, the man moved behind the counter and spilled each of the piles into a large gold bowl set into the wood. He watched the bowl for a moment before awkwardly shifting the massive owl onto Harry's arm. "They never said you were a fool, Mr. Potter."

"Not a fool." Potter answered with disgusted anger in his voice. "Just a Gryffindor."

"Ack!" The man barked when Harry reached up to remove the bindings. "Take her outside before you free her! I'll not have her ruining my shop!"

With one last glare at the man, Harry led the Winchesters out. "What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked when they were back on the walk outside the shop.

Harry crooned gently to the great raptor as he carefully fumbled with the jesses. "He has her tied up like a common muggle owl." Harry spat between soft coos. "She's scared, angry, and they shipped her out while she still had a nest of owlets. Of course he couldn't work with her."

"How do you know all that?" Sam asked curiously.

Harry blinked rapidly, then looked between the taller brother and the owl that was chirping anxiously from under the loosened hood. Then he swallowed. "I think we can check of another angelic trait." He said softly. "She says her name is Huruuku. "

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	10. Chapter Nine

AN: Hello everyone! A lot of you commented on the ridiculous amount Harry paid for Huruu. You're right, it was insane. But there were reasons for it. Since I won't really mention them in the story I'll go ahead tell you. 1) Harry has no concept of money. We see this over and over again. Growing up with the Dursleys, he never had his hands on any money, so he never would have learned how to manage it. When he finally does get money, he almost never does his own shopping. Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, or Dumbledore arrange for his supplies in every book except the third. You also see more than once that money seems to have no real value to him. The sweet trolley in first year, the ominoculars at the world cup, giving away the triwizard winnings; it has no value to him. 2) Harry is still hurting from the loss of the family he had just started. Now he listening to this owl upset from the loss of her chicks and mate and unable to fight back at the people who took her from them. That resonates. Of course he's going to do whatever it takes to help her without thinking about what it's going to cost him. And a couple hundred thousand isn't that big a deal for him. It's a drop in the bucket from what we saw of his vault in the first movie. Not to mention what's been added since Sirius died. 3) He just got conned. -_-; As I said, money doesn't mean much to him, and the skeezy shop owner is obviously not on the up and up. Skrewts? Chupacabra? Harry tells him he has class 4 non-tradables. Not a great guy. Everyone knows that Harry has money. He doesn't exactly hide it. He just screams 'please rob me!' And with that insane opening bid, how could you not expect him to be conned?

Anyway, enough of that explanation. Now, I hope you enjoy this next offering. You can all thank the jerk who frustrated me so much I had to do something cathartic to keep from hitting the meany-poo-head. Yes, I did just call him that. It's a lot nicer than what I want to call him. But the upside of my frustration is a lovely new chapter for all the wonderful people reading this story. b(^^)d

Also, we meet some angels in this chapter. I would like to state, for the record, **THESE ARE JUST FICTIONAL DEPICTIONS OF HEAVENLY HOSTS! THEY ARE NOT REAL!** These are just make believe. I simply used an angel choir that I found online. This is in no way supposed to be any kind of reference or actual representation of anything real. There is no religious or Biblical background for these or any other angels used in this fic. I'm pulling the personalities and traits from a mash of Supernatural and Fallen. Neither of these are religious texts and should not be taken as such.

Now that we've got that out of the way.

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><p><span>Chapter Nine<span>

With a large toss of his arm, Harry helped the massive raptor to hoist herself into the air. "Aren't you worried about her coming back?" Dean asked, bending down to pick up the jesses the green-eyed teen had allowed to drop in the street.

"Leave them." Harry said angrily. "Honestly I should report that shop. No one keeps a post owl tied up like that. If I knew who to report him to, I would."

"But what about the bird?" Sam asked.

"She'll meet us tonight." He shrugged. "In fact, she'll probably be waiting for us at the hotel when we get there. Besides, did you see her? There's a reason I didn't want a gray or an eagle owl. She has to weigh at least seven kilos! I thought my arm was going to fall of when he stepped her onto it."

"Okay." Dean said curiously. "But how will she find the hotel? What if we don't stay at a hotel?"

This time Harry's smile almost reached his eyes. "All she needs is a name. A post owl can find anyone, anywhere as long as they have a name." He sighed, sparing the velvet purse a small wince.

"By the way, where'd you get all that gold?" Dean frowned.

"Kreacher brought it." The wizard shrugged. "Still that was supposed to purchase an owl, a broomstick, some robes, books, floo powder, a port key home… Instead I got twenty thousand galleon jesses that no self-respecting post owl would ever need and an owl so big I can't even lift her… Bugger. No wonder Molly insisted on doing all the shopping for us."

"So do you have anymore gold, or did you spend it all on an impulse buy?" Sam asked in exasperation.

"I have more." Harry frowned. "It's in my vault, but I'd really rather not deal with the goblins or the fact that I'm not sure if this wand is registered to me. That's why I had Kreacher get this gold for me." He sighed deeply before looking up to the sky after the vanished owl. "Oh well. At least I've got an owl. I'll just have to mail in for everything."

"So what?" Dean smirked. "You blow all your money on a bird and you're ready to go?"

"Well, not all of my money." Harry smiled. "If you spot a Honeydukes on the way out I can still spring for some Pumpkin Pasties or some Bertie Bott's."

NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD

Not much longer they were again crossing the field back to the car, Harry's knobby wand pointing unerringly. "Are you sure that thing knows where we're going?" Dean demanded, not looking up from the moderate bag of sweets he was pawing through. Harry merely gestured to the road they were approaching. "Good." He grunted, glancing up before digging back into the bag. "If you lost my baby I'm shooting you on principle."

The teen rolled his eyes. "I've been using Point Me since I was fourteen. I think I've got it down by now."

"Yeah, how does that even work?" Sam asked curiously, eyeing the slightly shifting wand laying flat on Harry's palm.

"Easy." The wizard shrugged. "It always points north. Before we left I told my wand that the car was north."

"So is it focusing on a geographic north, or a magnetic north?"

"It's pointing north." Harry answered in confusion. "North is north, right?"

"Well, is it pointing to the place where the magnetic field dips, or to the place where a map shows north?"

"Er… yes?"

Sam blinked at the teen for a moment. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He asked in mild shock.

"Never do." Dean interrupted. "All I hear is 'bitch, bitch, moan, bitch question.'"

"Jerk." The younger brother groused as they reached the edge of the road.

"Bitch." The elder smiled before looking at Harry. "Now, kid, make with the voodoo. Where's my car?"

"Magic." The teen said in exasperation. "Voodoo is different. You have to pay for that. Magic is something you're born with. Finite incantatum." He finished with a quick flick of the wand. "Locantus aquitonem."

Dean smiled as the car reappeared, invisibility seeming to drip off of it. "Great. Let's go. If we keep driving tonight we can still make it to Bobby's in time for dinner tomorrow."

NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD

The tall figure watched as his brother returned smiling victoriously. "So you found it?"

"Yes." The other replied, eyeing his six siblings. "I found it. The vessels are still traveling with it for now."

The first one frowned. "I don't want to kill the vessels, but I will if we have to… Is there anyway to separate the abomination from them?"

"We can deal with them." A third brother said. "The vessels protect the mortal they seek. Capture the mortal and you own them. They will give us the abomination in exchange for the monkey's life."

The other six nodded in agreement. "How long will it take for them to reach the mortal?" One other asked.

"Not long." The scout replied. "They will be there by sunset tomorrow."

"Then we will be there by noon." The first one said firmly. "The abomination will not be allowed to escape us."

"We will not fail, Brother." The fifth one said confidently. "We have never failed."

"Maktiel, Rogziel, Hutriel. Go to the mortal and seize him. The rest of us will prepare for the abomination.

The three nodded abruptly before all seven took to the sky.


	11. Chapter Ten

AN: Okay, so since the last chapter was really short I decided a while back to post these two together. This one is a bit short too, so I could have made them into one chapter, but they were always meant to be separate. Also, you get to enjoy my first ever, serious action scene. I don't write a lot of action, because while I can see it in my mind, I have a hard time translating it to words. So please bear in mind that this isn't the best action scene ever and constructive criticism is more than welcome since I doubt this will be the last action scene in this fic. Anyway, as always, I own nothing and I hope you enjoy.

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><p><span>Chapter Ten<span>

"How much farther?" Harry asked from the back seat of the Impala.

"We're almost there." Sam sighed. "We're about an hour out."

"At least tell me this friend of yours has better taste in music that Dean." He grumbled.

"Are you dissing my cassettes?" The older brother demanded.

"Yes." Harry answered promptly, watching the world fly by the window. "I may not know much about muggle bands, but really? Black Sabbath? Shouldn't they be dead by now?"

"Excuse me?" Dean yelled in offense as Sam attempted to eat his fist to keep from laughing. "It's classic rock!"

"So do you have any of the Grateful We're Not Dead Yet?" Harry snarked as Sam choked on his laughter.

"You should be shot for that blasphemy." Dean growled.

"I told you man," Sam gasped, "it's the best of mullet rock."

"Bite me." Dean snapped. "Shit!" The banter died with Dean's yelp as he slammed on the breaks, throwing his passengers painfully forward against the seat belts.

"Merlin's beard!" Harry groused from where he had been flung up against the back of Sam's seat. "Warning next time!"

When the brothers didn't answer Harry leaned around the tall American to see what had their attention. Just in front of the car, in the middle of the road, stood a tall Nordic man in a clean black business suit. His longish blonde hair had been pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck, and his cold green eyes watched them with disgust. But the eye-catcher was the long flaming whip that curled at his feet, melting and charring the asphalt.

"What the hell?" Dean growled as two more men, one of Spanish decent and the other from Arabic stock, moved to either side of the car. The Spanish man held a bronze hammer of incredible size while the Arab carried what looked like the disturbed love child of an axe and a spear.

"Give us the abomination." The man with the whip demanded.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean yelled from the car.

The Arab yelled loudly, charging the car with his weapon raised. Glass imploded in melting shards as the head of the halberd busted the back window. Only Harry's quick reflexes kept him from being impaled as it stopped where his head had been.

"You so did not." Dean snarled, preparing to rev the engine.

"Look out!" His younger brother warned, flinching away as the Spaniard's war hammer crashed deafeningly into the hood of the car. With a hiss steam began to rise from the ruined front end.

The speaker sneered as he watched his brother's violence. "Give us the abomination." He demanded coolly.

"Like hell." The older Winchester refused, drawing a gun from seemingly nowhere.

"Who the bloody hell are these people?" Harry almost yelped, drawing the elder wand.

"Angels." Sam answered curtly. "We need to get out of here."

"No kidding." Dean snapped. "We need to get to Bobby's."

"I can only apperate to places I've been." Harry frowned. "Duck!"

Sam and Dean barely heard his cry when his hands on their shoulders yanked them. The touch seemed to shoot straight through to their centers, squeezing and pulling them painfully. Then it just stopped, the two of them falling to their knees, gasping for air. The loud crash of metal on metal drew their eyes to the war hammer smashed through the roof, crushing the front passenger seat where Sam had been.

"I'll kill them." The older brother choked out as the three angels turned to the roadside where Harry had apperated them to.

"We have no quarrel with you." The talkative one said. "Give us the abomination and we'll leave."

"Drop dead, ya fugly bastard!" Dean snarled, fighting vertigo to get to his feet.

"Dean, we can't fight them." Sam said tersely, eyeing the three approaching hosts.

Harry stood behind them, his wand at the ready when movement in the dark caught his eyes. A quick shove pushed the brothers down in time for a whistling arrow to part the air where they had been. "Expelliarmus!" The sharp cry was joined by a quick flick sending a crimson spell rocketing into the dark trees. A harsh snarl of pain revealed a forth angel hiding in their shadows. "What do you want?" The wizard demanded angrily.

The blonde with the whip moved closer when an Asian man appeared. "Brother, we've subdued the mortal." His quiet voice seemed to echo in the still night.

The blonde's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Dean and Sam Winchester." He called loudly. "Give us the nephilim abomination, and we shall free Mr. Singer."

Sam paled, casting about for anything that could be used as a weapon. "Shit." Dean rumbled. Taking aim he shot a bullet just over the blonde's shoulder. "You hurt one hair on his head and I'll drag you down to hell myself!"

"Then we kill you." The angel said with calm indifference. His whip lashed out in a streak of heavenly fire to wrap around the barrel of the gun, melting it. Another arrow whistled toward them, joined by the angry shriek of an owl.

Time stopped for Harry as he saw everything. Huruu fell from the sky, her great wings spread to shield the three of them from the blazing arrow aim at Sam's heart. Something snapped inside the teen, a wild angry thing that forced all that was 'Harry' out of its way. Between one breath and the next Harry was gone and the Nephilim burned in his place. Without even a thought, the wand in his hand grew to the perfect weight and he _moved_.

The brothers gaped as the skinny kid suddenly roared and inhuman battle cry of power and exhalation as he burst past them. Massive sharp wings cocked threateningly at his back as the wand turned blazing battle axe interrupted the bolt before it could reach a target.

"Now you show your true form." The blonde spat. "Unholy beast!" His whip lashed out, searing flesh as it struck.

Silver-gray wings beat the air furiously as the Nephilim reeled back out of range, watching the three circling celestials. With unnatural silence the one that had been Harry studied the angels, his eyes burning of jade fire. Then he launched at them, the ebon shaft of his battle axe smashing into the teeth of the hammer wielder before twisting to catch the halberd's burning blade. Tossing the blade, he spun to bat away the whip's stinging lash as Huruu rose laboriously back into the darkening sky.

The two brothers watched the four combatants twist and clash to the ring of steal and the roar of flame. The Asian one though, simply watched with them, a glint of golden flame shining in either hand. "Aren't you going to help your friends?" Dean asked snidely.

"No." He answered. "They are more than a match for the abomination."

Just then an owl's cry shredded the air followed by the hidden angel's bellow of pain. "The beast will die!" The Asian angel hissed, preparing to throw a burning dart.

The sharp report of Dean's gun threw his aim and drew the Nephilim's attention. The war cry was punctuated by the wet thunk as the Nephilim's axe fell into the meat of the hammer wielder's upper thigh, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh. Pulling the blazing blade from his opponent he used it to again catch the halberd, snapping it just below the head before turning to the angel Dean had shot.

"_Leave or die._" He said, the angelic language spilling like water from a failed dam.

"_Brothers!_" A voice gasped from the trees. "_Next time! We were not prepared for a warrior's spawn._"

The blonde nodded angrily once. "_Next time, abomination, you die._"

Then they were gone, leaving the Nephilim standing alone, the angels' blood dripping from his naked blade.


End file.
